


Let Me Be Good

by nicholas_de_vilance



Series: da kink!meme fills [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Because they are both drunk, Blow Jobs, Daddy Issues, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Obscure use of sex as payment, Semi-Public Sex, balcony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicholas_de_vilance/pseuds/nicholas_de_vilance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/12149.html?thread=47430005#t47430005">this</a></p><p>Dorian gets drunk.  Alexius is there too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> Younger than cannon Dorian. Just so's you know.
> 
> Also, sorry about the delay on my other stories. I recently found out one of my dogs has cancer. Or might have cancer. We're not sure yet. Still, it's become a big distraction from writing. Also, I suffer from anxiety, and with all these stupid terror attacks, I haven't been dealing very well. 
> 
> Thus, I'm suffering a fairly intense writer's block. I'm trying to deal with it by writing little prompt fills on the kink meme. Also, I'll accept prompts in my messages and the comments below. As well as my tumble, if I ever get it up and running.
> 
> Thanks for understanding. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Though honestly, I doubt any of my precious doribull readers will even see this blurb.

Dorian knew how to enjoy the pleasant buzz on the right amount brandy wine. He came from a long line of casual drinkers, and his mother set a fine example of replacing protests and discomfort with intoxication. As Dorian discovered himself, as more than a mage and an intellectual, he began to understand the woman slightly better. The more his father disapproved of his homosexuality, the more Dorian ignored himself in favor of the burn of alcohol.

At the Alexius household, however, Dorian found he had no need for shame. Gereon knew exactly who he was, sometimes with more accuracy and fervor than Dorian himself. This did not stop the young mage's affection for booze, however. One Satinalia stood out, in particular.

Dorian sat on the balcony seat, basking in the cool evening breeze. He reveled in the numbing ache on his face and the tingling burn at the back of his throat. At this moment, he didn't have a care or worry in his mind. His head slumped back against latticework adornment on the wall. Despite the chill of Autumn around him, he was quite warm. In fact, he started to feel a little too warm, so he tugged the silk scarf from his collar and tugged loose the buckles of his tunic.

"Dorian?" Someone called.

The Altus looked up, blinking through his comfortable haze of thoughtlessness. "Good evening, Gereon," he replied, easy grin on his lips.

His mentor, Gereon Alexius, stood at the door to the balcony. All five feet and eleven inches of him. Dorian looked up lazily and admired him. While Gereon was easily fifteen years Dorian's senior and his mentor, Dorian couldn't held a measured level of attraction for the man. Plus, he was a Magister. A very affluent and important. Gereon wasn't conventionally handsome; though he contained a certain roguish charm, and the fading remnants of youthful beauty carved away by deepening laugh lines and streaks of gray. He was also powerful, considerably so. Gereon held the same sort of sway in the Magisterium as Dorian's father. The fact that Dorian found that devastatingly attractive in this moment...should have been disconcerting.

As it were, Dorian's head was stuffed like a soft toy, slow and easy, and unashamed thanks to the copious amount of wine he'd consumed.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" Alexius teased gently. He floated down to sit beside Dorian - a warm weight pressed against the young man's side.

"Oh, marinating," Dorian replied, flipping his hand up in the air as a vague, meaningless gesture. He was instantly fascinated by the feel and sight of his fingers flailing about, as though in slow motion. "I feel pleasant tonight."

"That's wonderful to hear." Gereon had been drinking as well. This had been his party, after all. Perhaps he was not so far gone as his apprentice. "You're sauced, aren't you?"

Dorian shot him a look of mock horror, as he considered how his current state might offend his gracious host. A sharp pang of anxiety laced through him, but Alexius simply laughed.

"It's perfectly fine, my friend." Gereon's hand sat hot and heavy on Dorian's shoulder. A comforting weight. "I just came looking for you to make sure you weren't isolating yourself too much. I did half expect to find you indisposed with that young...what was his name, Julius? He took quite a shine to you."

Dorian blushed and looked away. Stroking his moustache proved a good excuse to cover the deep red bleeding out over his dark, tan cheeks. He would never get used to Alexius' cavalier attitude about his sexual preference. Still, he managed to find his grin again. "Bit young for my tastes," he admitted. He had considered the young man, earlier.

"He's Felix's age, at least," Gereon stated, incredulously. "Where exactly do your standards lay, Altus Pavus?"

Dorian just smirked and leaned into Gereon's touch. He was swimming now, absolutely submerged in his previously consumed libations. He wondered, absently, how much longer he had before he started to feel ill. That thought fled him when Alexius took his hand away. With it, a heady warmth, like a soft, pillowy blanket in his brain, slipped away. He turned and looked at his mentor with a frown creasing his lips.

"You should touch me," he protested softly. The words came to his ears before he realized he'd even opened his mouth. Luckily, the red on his face was easily mistaken for the effects of the wine.

"Should I?" Alexius' voice remained light, teasing. However, he did reach out again. This time, he curled long fingers over Dorian's knee.

Dorian nodded, and tried not to preen too conspicuously at the attention. "You should," he insisted. "You're warm. I do so like warmth."

"But of course, young master, I do live to serve your comfort."

It was pleasant, for once, to be in Gereon's company without heavy discussion about politics and affecting change in the world as they knew it. Activism was all well and good in the light of day. Tonight, however, Dorian relished in the comforting touch and the informal banter he could share with the man.

"Also, I like your hands." Dorian rambled on, remaining blissfully obtuse to the words he allowed to tumble from his lips. "Strong hands, very strong. Powerful."

"Yes? Well pleased to hear you approve." It was definitely in Dorian's head that those fingers stroked gentle circles against the inside of his thigh. "I've certainly never had any complaints."

Dorian hummed and cast his gaze down to his knee. "No complaints at all."

Those hands, indeed. Those were the hands of a very powerful, capable mage. Those hands could burn Dorian down to a crisp with a snap of long fingers. Those hands could end Dorian's life, his station, his name, with a few scribbled lines and a signature. Dorian liked to think that those hands could, and ultimately would, be the things that shielded Dorian from his father's constant and unwavering threats to his freedom. If the day came that the tension between Dorian and Halward finally came to a head and imploded, Dorian liked to think that Alexius' powerful hands could keep him safe from the fallout.

"You're a good man, Gereon," Dorian announced, suddenly, dismally.

"So are you, you know."

Dorian shook his head and pushed himself up. It took more effort than he'd like to admit not to fall flat on his face the moment to world shifted. "No, I'm not," he said. "I'm a very, very bad man." Slowly, he stepped between the casual spread of Alexius' knees. "Because here you sit, no doubt thinking of all my genius and potential and how to bring out the best of me, blah, blah, blah because you care. And all I can picture is what your cock might taste like, right in this moment."

Gereon raised his brow, locking Dorian in with a wide-eyed gaze. That gaze remained the same, slightly alarmed, openly intrigued, more than a little tipsy, as the Altus sank quickly to his knees. "What?" Alexius asked, single word. Shocked speechless.

Dorian mentally patted himself on the back and shoved Gereon's robes open and aside. "I want to suck you off," he clarified.

For his part, Alexius did not push Dorian away. He just stared, uncertain, as his trusted apprentice fumbled with the laces of his soft, cotton leggings. "Ahem, why?" he asked, voice suddenly hoarse, dry.

"Because my father was right," Dorian did not say. It was a near thing, but he managed to kick his vocal filter back on to save him from that awkwardness. "You're so good, Gereon," he muttered instead, sliding the palm of his hand over the half-hard bulge in his mentor's pants. "You're so good. I'd like to be good to you."

_I'd liked to bend over for you, submit myself completely to your whim. I'd like to be used by you. I'd like to repay you for your kindness, your hospitality, for being to me like the only true family I have ever known. I'd like to repay you the only way I know how. Let me give myself to you, in just this small way. Let me show just the sort of depraved slut my father accused me of being, and pray that you continue to understand. Let me please you. Please don't hate me._

"Dorian, I - " Gereon reached out unsteadily and touched the young man's cheek.

At last, Dorian's drunken fumbling extracted Gereon from the confines of his leggings. Dorian cut the man off with a gentle squeeze of the shaft and wrapped his lips around the head. He let out a delighted moan at the sticky, salt taste and ran the tip of his tongue under the foreskin.

"Andraste's - tits!" Gereon swore, hand flying out desperately for purchase. Ultimately, his fingers landed in Dorian's silky, black coif, tightening rhythmically around dark strands. "Dorian, you...you don't - "

" - have to," the man probably intended to say. That was alright. Dorian couldn't have expected even his close friend and mentor to understand. He did have to. He needed it, completely in this moment. He needed to touch, to taste, to be useful - so much so that he would still need it even if he didn't want it. Oh, how he wanted it, however.

Dorian secretly prided himself on his ability to suck cock. He knew tricks to make certain prostitutes in Minrathous blush like cloistered sisters with a dirty novel. In no time at all, Gereon was hard, heavy and leaking on Dorian's tongue. It was a sick, perverted thing to take pride from, but Dorian was fine with that. He was not, after all, a nice man. He had few virtues, so he compensated with better vices. The sort that had him slurping noisily and dragging his mouth up and down on a hot, thick cock, over and over. He loved every nuance of it.

With a slick pop, Dorian pulled off and smiled up at his mentor. He knew exactly what he looked like, kneeling and eager, lips pink and spit slick, pupils blown wide, eyes half-lidded. He snaked a long, flexible tongue out to swirl around Gereon's sensitive, bulbous head.

"Bloody fuck," replied Alexius.

"Will you come on me?" Dorian said, dragging his fist over the spit and precome slicking up Gereon's thick shaft. The Magister let out a low, growling moan. "Or would you like me to swallow it? You could fuck my throat. Anything, Gereon."

Gently, too gently, Alexius stroked the side of Dorian's face. He feathered his fingers into the young mage's hair once more, a light hold, more like a caress. Then, he replaced Dorian's hand with his own on his cock and jacked himself in firm, long pulls. One, two, three, four. Dorian's face held pure rapture, watching that hand pull and pull over silken, thrumming flesh. He didn't have the capacity to count the strokes before Gereon tipped over. As the first hot spray splashed over him - burning hot on his evening-chilled skin - Dorian whimpered, high and needy. The fingers in his hair held tight now, trapping him in place as hot come painted lines over his face, covering his eye, dripping over his moustache, spilling into his open mouth.

Several beats passed in relative silence. But for the soft percussion of their mixed breathing, there was nothing. Nothing" until Dorian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the come off his face. That motion broke though the hazy spell of sex between them. Alexius tucked himself away, face red, not quite able to look at Dorian in the eye. The Altus, though he had thoroughly enjoyed himself and Gereon, was too drunk for a bodily reaction. In fact, his head swam as he stood, his gut turned. Dorian went right back down to his knees, vomitted on the floor and passed out.


End file.
